


Patron of the Arts

by BladeoftheNebula



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Steve Rogers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21834643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeoftheNebula/pseuds/BladeoftheNebula
Summary: Steve meets a handsome stranger at an art show.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 205
Collections: 2019 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange





	Patron of the Arts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [firebrands](https://archiveofourown.org/users/firebrands/gifts).

Steve tried to calm the nausea rolling around in his belly.

His first show. His very first.

People were here to see _him_. Well, him and a few others, but his art would be on display and people could _buy _it.

He took a gulp of the free champagne to settle his nerves.

He was hiding out back, trying to spy without being noticed. The exhibition was a selection of the best works from their post-grad course, and it usually attracted some big names hoping to get affordable works from up-and-comers.

There was a tap on his shoulder and Steve jumped.

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing skulking back here?”

Steve flushed guiltily. “I’m not sure I want to go out there. It’s one thing to display my work, it’s another to have people_ know_ it’s my work.”

“If you want sales you have to charm them a little. People like to meet the artist.”

“I know, I know.” His professor had been very clear on that.

She took the empty flute from his hand, straightened his tie and then took his arm. “Come on Picasso, let’s go.”

* * *

She parked him up next to where his five pieces were pleasantly arranged on the wall, their neatly typed name cards sitting alongside. Steve started feeling a little awestruck. He’d finally done it. He was an artist, and that was his work.

His Ma would’ve been so proud.

He made small talk with a few of the guests, explaining a bit about his work and style. He started to relax, the calming effect of talking about his art making the words flow easier with each person. The second glass of champagne didn’t hurt either. He mingled as well, introducing himself to a few influential people his professor gestured wildly at. He was feeling pretty pleased about the whole event, and near the end of the evening he drifted back over to his own display.

There was a man, looking at his largest canvas, a portrait of his mother he’d done from one of his favourite photos of her. It was the only piece not for sale, but his prof had loved it and told him he’d had to at least display it.

Steve sidled up, trying to find an opening, when the man saw him out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “Lovely, isn’t it? Beautiful use of colour.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, smiling.

“It’s yours?” At this, the man turned to face him fully, his eyes widening slightly.

“Yes sir, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“Wow, I mean, you’re very good.”

“Thank you. It’s been a lot of work, but I’m pleased with how they all came out.”

“They’re amazing,” the man said, looking slightly awed. He was attractive– really attractive.

“Are you a collector?”

The man snorted. “No, no. Not really. But I had a...vested interest in attending tonight and I must say I was not disappointed.”

“Glad to hear it.” Steve gestured around. “Are you thinking of getting any pieces?”

“Well, I’m certainly considering this one.” He pointed to one of Steve’s landscapes. “There’s something about it that makes me feel...something. Like I know it’s Central Park, I’ve been there, I’ve been to that exact spot, yet somehow it’s like I’m seeing something brand new, you know?”

Steve flushed. “Thanks. You know for someone who doesn’t like art, you’re sure good at talking about it.”

The man laughed. “I’m no expert, I just know what I Iike.”

Suddenly a woman with red hair appeared between them, tapping the man’s arm. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“Yes, I-”

“Oh!” She looked at Steve’s work. “They’re marvellous.” She looked at him. “Are you the artist?”

“Yes ma’am.” Damn. Wasn’t that always the way? They made a nice couple.

Disappointed but pleased by the genuine interest, Steve took advantage and started to explain the piece, describing his process and talking about his inspiration for it. He talked for a long time, but the couple didn’t interrupt much, except with the odd clarifying question, and it felt nice to have such rapt attention.

“But really, all of this wouldn’t be possible without my benefactor,” Steve said, knowing the appreciation was seeping into his voice. It always did when he talked about them. “I wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without them.”

“Oh?” The woman said, shooting a look Steve couldn’t decipher at her companion. “Do tell.”

“I’m from Brooklyn, and we didn’t have much money growing up, or actually ever, really. My Ma worked really hard but she could never afford to pay for my college tuition, let alone post-grad. And when she passed away, she didn’t have much to leave me. One of my high school professors asked me to make a portfolio to send to someone he thought could help me out, and the rest is history. I don’t know who they are, they prefer to remain anonymous. A couple of times a year I send some samples of my work to their assistant just to show my progress, but other than that, they just pay for my education, getting nothing in return. I’m so grateful for their generosity.”

The man snorted derisively and Steve frowned. “Sorry?”

“Seems to me like someone who just wanted to get some good karma points. The ones with the most guilt always do."

Steve stiffened, annoyed at the sudden cynical tone in the man’s voice. “I don’t think you know anything about it.”

“And you do? Rich guys are always paying off someone to make up for bad behaviour. What makes you think this guy is any different?”

“I know that without my benefactor I’d be stuck working some shitty job for long hours and not enough pay like everyone else in my neighbourhood,” Steve said hotly. “It shouldn’t be like that, but it is. Without someone stepping in to help me, I’d be nothing. So I’d appreciate if you didn’t slam someone whose kindness means everything to me.” He was pretty sure this was not what his prof had meant when he said ‘mingle’. But he had to say something.

“Whoever they are, my benefactor is helping artists live their truth, and nothing could be more noble than that.”

The woman beside him covered her mouth, and for a minute he thought she was shocked by his words, but then he realised she was covering a smile. “Looks like he told you.”

The man was looking a little shell-shocked. He looked a little flushed, which Steve assumed was annoyance but didn’t seem to be able to come up with the words.

God he’d really fucked this up.

The woman looked back at him. “It sounds like you hold this person in high regard Mr Rogers.”

Steve nodded. “I have no idea how I would ever really thank them.”

“Well I’m sure he could think of something."

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, confused.

“I’m actually Virginia Potts, Mr Rogers. We’ve emailed a few times over the years.”

Steve froze, staring at her in shock as the name struck a familiar note in his brain. “Potts?”

She nodded, a smile twitching at the corners. “Yes, and this is my employer, Mr Stark.”

“Gah,” Steve squeaked out, a flush spreading over his face. He’d just yelled at his benefactor, while_ defending his benefactor_ in an embarrassingly passionate way. And oh god, how had he not recognised him? Because that was no random guy. That was genius millionaire _Tony Stark, _the heir to Stark Industries.

She smirked, but not unkindly, clearly just amused. “Perhaps I’d better leave you two to get to know each other? Mr Rogers, lovely to meet you, and congrats on the pieces. They’re incredible.” Ms Potts gave him one last mischievous smile before she slipped away, leaving the two men alone.

“I uh-” Mr Stark started.

This was awful. Steve had always thought about what meeting the person who made his dreams come true would be like and oh, it was not like this. He had imagined showing them his work, having them tell him they thought their investment was worth it. Now he was standing in front of _People Magazine’s_ sexiest man alive winner 2019, who apparently was the person who had saved Steve from poverty and helped him follow his passion.

This was an actual nightmare.

Before he could say anything, his professor appeared at his elbow. “Steve, there’s someone I need you to come speak to.”

“Uh, yeah I can-” He looked back at Stark, only to find him disappearing into the crowd. His heart sunk. “Yeah, fine. Lead the way.”

* * *

“Oh god, it was so embarrassing Buck!” Steve whined, flopping on the couch in despair. “I must’ve sounded like such an idiot.”

“Can’t have been that bad,” Bucky offered from where he was pouring himself a bowl of cereal for dinner .

“It was. I flirted with him and then yelled at him. I’m not sure it could be worse.”

“I’m telling you, mountain out of a molehill.”

“You weren’t there, you don’t know!”

“I wasn’t,” Bucky agreed, taking a spoonful and chewing thoughtfully. “But when I got into the building there was a guy that looked suspiciously like Tony Stark trying to act casual while standing next to a car that costs more than we pay for rent in a year.”

Steve’s head shot up. “What?!”

“Pretty sure he was trying to work out a good excuse for why he was here, if his muttering was anything to go by.”

“Bucky you asshole! When were you going to tell me?” Steve pulled on his shoes and grabbed a jumper to put on over his ratty T-shirt.

“I told you, didn’t I? Not my fault you were too busy rolling around in self-pity to ask me about _my _day.”

Steve gave him a push as he headed to the door. “Watch it, punk!”

Steve charged down the stairs, his heart starting to race the closer he got to the building entrance. Why was he here? Was he going to tell Steve that he’d no longer be funding his tuition?

He swung open the door and had to come to a sudden halt as he found himself face to face with Tony Stark, who was mid-reach for the apartment buzzer. “Ummmm...hi?”

Stark laughed. “Wow that was fast. They’re aren’t even that quick at the _Ritz-Carlton_.”

Steve flushed. “Oh, um, my roommate saw you waiting down here. I sort of arrogantly assumed you were here for me, Mr Stark.”

“Tony, please, and nope. I just like hanging around random streets in Brooklyn. You know, in my spare time, when I’m not helping impoverished artists ‘live their truth’.”

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned, dragging his hands over his face. “I can’t believe I said that. It’s the sort of thing only the really wanky artists say.”

“True. But it was passionate, which makes it somewhat forgivable.” Tony smiled. “I rather liked it.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ve always rather liked it, your passion, I mean.”

Steve frowned. “How? We only just met.”

Tony flushed. “Ms Potts is not the only one who got to see your art. I think I might’ve fallen for you the first time I saw your sketch of the Brooklyn Bridge. It was honestly haunting, not just some tired landscape. You made it seem...alive and weighed down by memory. That sounds dumb, I don’t know how to explain it.” He scuffed his foot on the pavement.

“I wasn’t looking to sponsor anyone, or anything. I was a selfish jerk, too caught up in partying and getting myself plastered all over the tabloids. Twenty five years old and still acting like a spoiled teenager. But after I got back from Afghanistan– " Steve’s chest clenched at the mention; everyone had heard about Tony Stark’s kidnapping. “I wanted to do something. I wanted to be better. So when my Aunt Peggy was contacted by an old teacher friend of hers, she thought this might be just the thing to get me started.” He gave Steve a timid smile. “Pepper mentioned you were in your final year. I knew I had to come see your art, and you, in person. I didn’t even need to read the labels. I knew they were yours as soon as I saw them.”

“Wow, that’s…” Steve was lost for words.

“Creepy, I know. Sorry. Also, I got Pepper to give me your address from the file, which is so inappropriate and invasive, I know. I’m sorry I’m not what you thought. I liked that guy you talked about at the gallery. Sorry you got me instead.”

“I’m not!” Steve blurted, teaching out a hand to take Tony’s wrist. “Honestly, you’re better than I could’ve imagined.”

“Oh. Well, in that case,” Stark offered, looking nervous. “I hope I wasn’t misreading your interest in me before you found out who I was?”

Steve blushed. “Uh no, you weren’t.”

“Oh good,” he said, a pleased smile spread over his face. “So, if I say that I signed all authority over your scholarship over to Pepper so I have no influence over it regardless of your answer, then could you maybe see your way into going to dinner with me?”

Steve slid his hand down Tony’s wrist to tangle their fingers together. “I think I could make the time.” He felt a grin spread across his face and made no effort to reign it in. His chest felt so full it might burst. “But, Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m paying.”

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi! Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BladeoftheNebu1)/[Tumblr](https://bladeofthenebula27.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Join the [Put on the Suit (18+) server](https://discord.gg/z5WSqbS) over on discord to hang out with fellow stony fans! It’s a super welcoming community and we have a lot of fun ♥️


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